Falling to Pieces
by GirLikeBurritos
Summary: Breakeven songfic. Lonely Francis, USUK and FRUK mentions.


__This isn't Francis bashing. Song is Breakeven. I linked the version I found that lead to this.

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><p><em>I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing<em>

_Just prayed to a god I don't believe in_

_'Cause I've got time while she's got freedom_

_'Cause when a heart breaks, no it don't breakeven_

Francis woke up with his head pounding, chest tight, and his eyes were barely able to open. He poked his head out from under the warm cover to the cold, empty apartment. He shuffled his way into the bathroom, hugging his bland green hoodie to himself.

_Why did I buy something so bland? I don't even remember wearing this hideous thing before._ Francis thought to himself. He was prided that everything he owned was very fashionable. He was planning to take it off and throw it in the trash, until he got a good smell of it.

The green hoodie smelt of old books and Earl Grey. Memories of walking in the pouring rain and stealing kisses in art museums. Waking up in the morning to messy blonde hair and a beautiful face. To slowly kiss that face until its emerald eyes opened, and that beautiful face graced him with a smile. A smile so rare that it could only be seen in the special moments of morning or when he said "I love you."

But like that smile, those memories will fade. That beautiful face will be kissed by another's lips, those emerald eyes will shine for someone else, and those words...

Francis pulled off the hoodie before entering the bathroom. There wasn't anyway he could look in the mirror with that hoodie on and not start crying. He didn't want to remember what he saw last night.

"Come on, mi amigo! What better way to forget a person than with booze?" Francis smiled at his friend's attempt to make him come out clubbing with him and Gilbert. "Yeah, don't you want to go dancing with the awesome me?" A loud crash and cursing could be heard on the Frenchman's end of the conversation. He laughed at the other two's anticts.

"Don't worry, Antonio. There will be plenty of drinking tonight. I just want to enjoy a night out on my own. I will meet up with you and Gil next week." The Spaniard sighed into the phone. "Alright, Francis. But it's been three months. It's time to move on." Francis smiled a bitter smile and wished the other a good night.

"Can I take your order sir?" A young brown-haired waiter appeared out of nowhere, pen poised at the ready to take his costumer's order. Francis ordered the quiche, a bottle of wine, and soup, while taking in his surroundings. The waiter hurried off with his order and quickly returned with the wine that was requested.

The blonde picked up the wine glass, swirling the ruby liquid and watching the other couples in the restaurant. A sigh left his lips. This was supposed to be the place where he was going to bring Arthur for their anniversary. He had it all planned out. The waiter would have brought to the table a teacup and a teabag tied to a ring. Arthur was supposed to say yes.

Francis sighed again, this time taking a heady gulp from his wine glass.

"Bwahahahah! How can I not, Artie? I **am **the hero after all! There was no way I was going to let that guy run off after trying to mug you!" A loud American voice cut through the calm atmosphere of restaurant, and was quickly followed by a few furious mutterings of "Stupid git!" and "Wanker! Not so loud! We're in a restaurant!"

Francis froze up. He knew that voice. He knew it all to well. He got up to go to the bathroom, wanting to see how Arthur looked. The Frenchman made his way to the bathroom, looking over plants to where the loud outburst had come from. Then he saw them.

_Her best days will be some of my worst_

_She finally met a man that's gonna put her first_

_While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping_

_'Cause when a heart breaks it don't break even, even, no_

There was Arthur, looking the same as he always did, asides from looking quite handsome in his tux. There was also that man that made the outburst, also wearing a tux. Francis didn't like the man. He had a certain air about him that angered the Frenchman immediately, something that made him want to punch the man in the face. Maybe it was the fact that he was here with Arthur, a place that Francis wanted to bring him. But it was more likely that he hated the man for stealing something so precious from him. His love, his life, his everything...taking away from a man that couldn't even refrain from stupid outbursts.

But seeing the look on Arthur's face as he held on to the man's hand, the way the Brit looked at the man, and seeing that smile, that wonderful smile. It felt like the Englishman was stomping on Francis's heart.

_What am I supposed to do_

_When the best part of me was always you and_

_What am I supposed to say_

_When I'm all choked up and you're okay_

Unable to take it anymore, Francis went back to his table. He raised the wine glass to his lips and downed the rest of it.

_I'm falling to pieces, yeah_

_I'm falling to pieces_

Francis rubbed his head and threw the hoodie out of his sight, not wanting to have to remember anything else painful. He could already feel the tears leaking down his face. He turned the shower on to scolding hot, letting his mind focus on the burning instead of last night. _At least now I know why he left after so many years together. _The blonde hit the tiled wall. _At least now you're happy._

_They say bad things happen for a reason_

_But no wise words gonna stop the bleeding_

_'Cause she's moved on while I'm still grieving_

_And when a heart breaks, no it don't break even, even, no_

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><p><em><em>I don't know if I managed to capture the emotion I wanted to in this. The song that inspired this can be found at youtube with this /watch?v=WKcVt1Cn5BI at the end. To be honest, I don't like Francis, yet I have a level of respect for him. Arthur didn't break up with Francis because of him sleeping around. Arthur was just tired of the fighting and pointless arguments.


End file.
